Fantastic Plants and Why Gren Hides Them
by SenpaiBuckwheat
Summary: The title is exactly what it sounds like, and no, it has absolutely nothing to do with a movie franchise of a very similar name. In short, Amaya misinterprets many things. Gremaya.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here we go I guess. Welcome to _Fantastic Plants and Why Gren Hides Them_. Hopefully this fic won't be too long. This is Pre-Dragon Prince, and Amaya and Gren are a tad OOC?**

* * *

Normally, Amaya didn't resort to such shallow methods, skulking around behind pillars of the palace as she watched her right-hand man converse with other troops. She couldn't help it. She hadn't been allowed in Gren's room for over a week which typically wasn't a big deal, but he got very flustered very quickly whenever she'd try to kick down his door. What was he hiding?

If she squinted, Amaya could make out the conversation on the soldiers' lips, though it was choppy.

"She's pretty tender, she needs special treatment," Gren said, smiling.

The other soldier laughed. "Those kinds usually are pretty difficult to deal with, but I'm surprised you took her on even though it's been a while since you dealt with this."

'This' what? Amaya shuffled closer.

"So Antionette's a bit of a handful, but I just keep her in the dark and feed her and she's fine."

The blood drained out of Amaya's face. Gren was keeping a woman in his room? Why did he feel like he had to hide her? It sounded like she was in trouble too. Being confined in a soldier's quarters all day every day without proper exposure to the outside could be harmful and dangerous to someone's mental and physical state.

Despite the initial shock of a woman being captive in Gren's room, Amaya felt frustrated at her lack of knowledge on this Antionette girl. She'd figure out who she was. Giving up on their conversation that had moved onto other topics, Amaya left the soldiers to consult the Soldier Directory in the library. Maybe that would give her some clues.

* * *

The librarian didn't bother hiding her surprise as Amaya stormed into the royal library. She rarely made an appearance in the grand collection of rooms, but this was something she wasn't sure she'd be able to figure out herself. _I need the Soldier Directory_, Amaya signed to the still-stunned old woman perched behind the entrance desk.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're saying." She mumbled, awkwardly enough that Amaya could barely make out the words on her lips.

Exasperated, the general rolled her eyes and sighed in an overly-dramatic fashion. She motioned for a quill and parchment. Flustered, the woman fumbled for what Amaya had requested and in a typical Amaya-scrawl, she wrote Soldier Directory.

"O-oh," the woman stuttered, and thinking that Amaya couldn't read her mouth, she stole the quill and parchment from her, writing directions.

As it would be, the directory was in the most inconvenient place, furthest away from most of the books and stored high on a shelf in a storage sort of room. Must not have been used a lot, as it was written in once every year for new and deceased soldiers, upgraded ranks, and soldiers that were being trained. Figures that the book Amaya needed most was in such a location when solving the mystery of Gren's secret girlfriend was crucial to the moment. And she couldn't even guarantee if Antionette was a soldier or not.

The smell of dusty books assaulted her nose as she turned down a cramped hallway of bookshelves stuffed with ancient texts. Her nose itched and in response, she sneezed, but a few people poked their heads around the corners of the shelves. It felt big, but maybe it was loud too. She looked up for a moment, eyes off of her warpath to lock with Commander Gren, her right-hand-man and mystery-girlfriend-secret-keeper.

_Amaya!_, he signed, rather excitedly. He skipped towards her, like a boy, stopping directly in front of her. _What are you looking for? You're not usually in the library._

_It doesn't concern you,_ she motioned, curtly. His face fell and she almost felt bad, but then remembered his secret.

_What's wrong? Is everything okay? _

She hated how concerned he was, standing all close in front of her with his earthy and fresh smell, like the outdoors, and his gentle signs even though there was no intonation. This cramped space made her face redden though she didn't want it to and she shoved her way past him, continuing on her mission.

_Maybe I wouldn't be mad at you if you weren't keeping secrets from me,_ she wanted to say, but didn't. She could've asked him right there about his secret girlfriend hidden away in his room (how did two people even fit on a single bed anyways?), but she'd rather figure it out herself or have him tell her without her prompts.

Eventually, Amaya found her way through the maze of bookshelves to the storage room buried behind the other bookshelves in the library, filled with official, but dated, royal documents. Using the key the librarian had given her, she turned it in the lock and swung the door open. It wasn't too hard to find, especially with a title as bold and swirly as it was stamped onto the spine of the book. She hefted the thick volume onto the table in the middle of the office that was drowning in dusty maps and dried-out quills. Something about Aaravos was scrawled on the corner of a map, but the rest of the paper had been ripped off.

Carelessly, she pushed the maps to the floor, only to create a whirlwind of more dust. To her annoyance, she sneezed three more times. As she flipped through the directory, she had found a few Antionettes that had deceased decades ago, but unless her best friend was secretly in seances or believed in the undead, she didn't think he was seeing one of those Antionettes. Just as she was about to flip to the more recent years of the directory, a freckled hand was placed on the table beside the book. Gren's hand. In a flash, Amaya slammed the book closed before he could read it.

_What are you doing here_? She was flustered, embarrassed at being caught. When she had turned around to face him, she realized how close he was leaning into her, hand still on the table. Had he not gotten on her nerves, her heart would've been pounding at the proximity.

_I heard you sneeze._ He looked as if he were on the verge of laughing out loud.

_How'd you find me here?_

He shrugged. _I've been in here before_. He snuck a glance at the title of the work on the table. Gren grinned. _The Soldier Directory? I read that sometimes._

Was that how he found the room so well? Amaya once prided herself on being a general that could easily read directions, maps, and track things or people down (not as well as Corvus, though), but having her commander find this room in a flash made her grind her teeth. Why was he irking her so much all of the sudden? Just because of his secret? _What's so interesting about the Soldier Directory that makes you read it?_

Gren flushed suddenly, caught off guard. What had she stumbled upon? _Nothing interesting, it's nothing, nothing, don't worry_. His eyes were darting back and forth. Gren was so good at lying. He stepped backwards, rubbing the back of his neck.

Definitely lying, she thought. She knew him so well. His lying habits were scratching his nose and rubbing the back of his neck. Along with just being suspicious and nervous and lying poorly.

_You're hiding something_, she grinned. Amaya sat on the edge of the table with her arms crossed, waiting for him to confess.

Even in the dim light from the room she could tell his face was reddening. _What? I'm not hiding anything_. He tried to keep his facial expressions neutral, but his dark eyebrows were furrowed. He looked handsome in that moment, rosy cheeks and eyebrows that were drawn together. His fists were clenched as if he were prepared for a fight. _It doesn't matter. I have to go._ He turned and left as he had said.

Once the door closed behind him, Amaya frowned. How serious was his secret that he was keeping it from her? Did he not trust her anymore? Had she done anything to make him not trust her? Maybe he was done with their friendship and had found someone else he could share it with. Someone he could love.

Amaya tongued her cheek. Trivial. All her thoughts were trivial. He was seeing someone else and hiding it from her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

* * *

Corvus only affirmed her assumptions about being too caught up in Gren's life outside of the palace. _You want me to spy on him? _His look was one of slight disgust.

Maybe it was foolish and clingy of her to ask, but it was worth a shot_. He's hiding something from me, and I just want you to monitor where he goes and who he talks with._

_Why can't you do that?,_ Corvus asked, and it was obvious he was starting to become bored with the conversation.

_Because he'll suspect me. He'll see me easily and you're way better at tracking people than I am_. Amaya grinned inwardly. Way to amp up his ego.

She could tell Corvus was surveying his options, wondering whether or not to listen to her. If he didn't, she'd have to pull out the 'general' card which she wasn't fond of using when it meant abusing her power. What had to be done had to be done. _I guess I could…_ Corvus muttered weakly after a few moments.

Amaya beamed_. I knew I could trust you._

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned.**


	2. Chapter 2

Amaya was fuming. Corvus had reported that Gren was seen going into a florist's shop, purchasing flowers, and happily smelling them as he walked out. Immediately, she knew they were for his girlfriend, who's name she hadn't found in the directory, meaning she must have been someone from the town. Either that or a servant in the kitchen. She racked her brain, thinking of all the eligible young women that were fighting for Gren's heart named Antionette. She knew none.

Katolis was a big kingdom, but Amaya knew Gren was mostly stationed inside the palace walls or on missions with her and her team, so he didn't have the ability to interact with the townspeople while on duty. Where then could he have met Antionette? What was wrong with her that he needed to hide her? She rolled her eyes. Gren was perfect, so naturally he'd have to have a perfect girlfriend as well. Nothing would be wrong with her. She'd be feminine, delicate, would laugh at his jokes and have perfectly clean nails. Her shoulders would be slender and smooth, her neck long and graceful. She wouldn't have a scar under her eye and wouldn't wear armor almost every hour of the day. She wouldn't have cropped hair or prominent muscles in her biceps, she'd be fragile and elegant with lean limbs and long, golden hair. She wouldn't be Amaya.

Before she could change her mind, Amaya stomped to her quarters to change into workout clothes. After the day's events of Corvus delivering his depressing news and Gren abandoning Amaya for his new girlfriend, she was ready to take out her anger on something.

* * *

_Spar with me_. Amaya stood outside Gren's room, signing to his head that was poked out of the door. She couldn't see inside of his room, but it smelled earthy, like he did. Maybe it was Antionette's perfume.

_I'm a little busy right now_?, he tried, shrugging his shoulders. _Besides, you know I'm not much of a fighter_. This was true, he preferred being on the sidelines instead of the front lines, but Amaya wanted to fight with him.

_As your general, I order you to spar with me_. Before waiting for an answer, she stormed off towards the courtyard, stretching her neck as she ploughed through the hallways of the barracks. She was already dressed for sparring, in her white tank top and black breeches, wrists and knuckles wrapped with tape, ready to punch.

The courtyard was empty when she arrived, as it should've been, and only a few moments later her best secret-keeping friend arrived. He was in a dark green t-shirt with bottoms that matched her own. He was working on wrapping his own knuckles and Amaya couldn't help but notice how effortlessly handsome he looked as his biceps flexed slightly as he prepared himself to fight her.

_Is everything okay_?, he asked, and he looked genuinely concerned for her mental state. She hated how much he cared about her when he had the fearlessness to hide his own girlfriend behind her back. All those years of training and growing together for nothing? Did their friendship mean nothing to him? Did all those stolen moments of foreign emotions and subtle flirting mean nothing to him?

_Just come at me_, she glared at him, and soon, fighting-Gren appeared with steeled eyes and a tensed body ready to direct and take blows.

Wordlessly, he approached, forearm shielding his face while the other hand curled into a fist. She blocked him, pushing his wrist down with her own forearm before swiveling behind him and going in for a roundhouse kick. He caught her ankle, twisting it in his hold and catching her off-guard all while having the audacity to smirk at her predicament. She sliced into the crook of his elbow with one hand as the other aimed for his gut. When she contacted his stomach, she almost stopped fighting him to simply blush when she felt how muscular it was. Amaya didn't have time to ponder his abdominal muscles as he released her foot in favor of aiming directly for her face. Lost in her thoughts, he made impact with her cheekbone and she grit her teeth.

By this point, a small crowd of off-duty soldiers had gathered to watch the scene. They were used to watching Amaya fight with the other troops, but today she seemed particularly mean with her movements. They knew she never went easy on her best friend, but something was off with the glare in her eyes and tightness of her fists. It also didn't go unnoticed that Gren was easily getting punches in when often he wasn't able to because of Amaya's outstanding defense.

Another punch was landed to her ribs, and she doubled over in pain before kicking behind his knees a moment later. He dropped to the stone of the courtyard. She was on top of him in a second, restricting his movement with her legs in an elaborate pin to the ground. He struggled for an instant, before raising his hands above his head. She thought he was going to tap out, but instead he signed, _what's gotten into you? Are you okay_? After catching her off guard, he reversed their positions.

Frustrated, Amaya signed as fast as she could so no one else would pick up on their conversation. Although nearly everyone in the royal forces had learned sign language, none could read as fast as Gren. _You're keeping secrets from me! You and your secret girlfriend_ – his grip loosened and she took full advantage, not bothering to complete her sentence.

Gren stopped struggling completely_. Girlfriend_? He sounded panicked.

Amaya's eyes darted to the crowd gathered. How fast could she sign a name so only Gren would pick up on it? _Antoinette_, she hissed.

His face paled before he broke out into a wide grin. She could feel him laughing. _Antoinette's just_… he paused, _a friend_?

Him being skeptical didn't improve her opinion on his 'friend'. Her chokehold on him tightened and he squirmed, tapping out in record time. She was fooling with him now, catching her breath from their tussle but still managing to smile. So he was still hiding things. At least she burned a little energy while trying to wriggle some information out of him.

Since the show had finished, the observing troops returned to their posts, conversing with one another about what they had seen. The flashes of sign language they caught weren't enough to create a full comprehensive understanding of the context and situation, but they discussed it amongst themselves nonetheless.

Gren stood, brushing the dirt and dust off his tunic and pants that had gathered in their tussle. He rubbed his throat tenderly, and Amaya almost felt bad, but realized he had dealt with worse, so he was fine.

_Thanks_, she said, breathless but relieved. It had been nice to have a civil fight with her friend. Her handsome, dorky, secret-keeping friend. _See you in the mess hall_.

Later, instead of avoiding her for supper, Gren had actually managed to sit in his normal spot across from her, though arriving late. He beamed in his usual fashion, looking childish but endearing.

She was in trouble.

Amaya squinted at the strong hands that held his utensils. He shoved a hearty bite of baked potato past his lips. _You have dirt under your nails_. Normally he kept them pretty clean, and even after their tussle his hands weren't dirty.

Hurriedly, Gren dropped his utensils, a blob of corn splattering onto the bench. _Oh do I_? He laughed awkwardly, eyes darting left and right_. I was, uh, sweeping_.

_Sweeping_. She raised an eyebrow but continued to eat her own meal. His excuses were getting increasingly more lame as she tried to figure out his mystery. Must've been pretty intense.

_You know how sweeping is_. To avoid more conversation, he busied his hands with cutting the pork on his plate, not making eye contact.

She was getting bored of waiting for him to spill his secrets to her. He'd never made it this long when he had secrets in the past. Usually after a day he'd blab them out in a rush. Gren would tell her eventually.

* * *

**A/N: I've never written fight scenes before geez that was rough**


	3. Chapter 3

It'd been _two weeks_ of utter torture on Amaya's end, waiting for her commander to finally confess. At this point, she was just about ready to kick down his door and investigate for herself, but it didn't take long for her to realize that those sorts of actions would easily cause a lot of confusion and mistrust in their relationship. Whatever their relationship was. She had felt increasingly more confused as he spent time with her, laughing and leaning close, blushing at certain things she said. Was he not serious about Antoinette? Or was he just playing with her heart? Amaya never pegged Gren as a player, but that soldier he was talking to weeks earlier could've dragged him into the lifestyle.

She was starting to get antsy. Gren had started spending less time with her and more with the castle gardener, _the gardener_, of all people. He seemed distant despite his confusing undercurrents of flirting and getting flustered in her presence. Maybe she was reading too much into it. Maybe he was just embarrassed to tell her what he was hiding. _Who _he was hiding.

Along with hearing of this Antionette character, Amaya had sneakily eavesdropped on collecting a few more of Gren's female friend's names. Besides the one she heard most about, she had also learned that Colette, Alexandra, and Nancy were acquaintances of his that had spent some time in his quarters.

Again, as she walked past the castle's gardens, she caught a glimpse of Gren on his knees, digging in the dirt with the caretaker. She frowned. He seemed perfectly content lowering himself to the older man's position, getting dirt under his nails. Immediately, Amaya chastised herself for thinking of the gardener in such a lowly way. All of the overanalyzing of Gren's character and private life made her irritable and twitchy.

She recounted the last time Gren had dirt under his nails. He told her he'd been sweeping, which she didn't believe, but watching him plant in the garden made more sense. But why would he be embarrassed about plants? She dropped the idea. Gren was a nice guy and if the gardener asked him for help he'd get into the dirt in a heartbeat.

Sulking, she dragged her feet to the weapon stock, a small, circular stone building set to the side of the courtyard. Amaya was on weapon duty today, meaning she needed to clean and sharpen all the weapons to prepare them for training. She hadn't bothered to check who her weapon-sharpening partner was on the assigned sheet in the mess hall, but didn't really care regardless. Oftentimes soldiers beneath her were too frightened to openly interact with her. Except for Gren, but he hardly counted.

She unlatched the heavy wooden door, the bottom of it scraping against the stone. Her partner wasn't there yet, but she sat herself on a bench, snatching an armful of swords before she settled down with her whet stone. Amaya was two whets into the blade before sunlight shone through the opening door.

Gren.

Amaya suddenly felt guilty of all of her unnecessary stalking and overanalyzation. He was standing before her, beaming as if nothing was wrong and as if he had nothing to hide. Maybe he didn't and she was misreading something that she already knew about. Antoinette, though? She frowned.

Upon seeing her grumpy face, Gren sobered and sat beside her, reaching over her lap to grab a blade. He smelled of fresh basil. She unexpectedly wanted to hold him close and inhale his scent until she got physically ill from it. Amaya squeezed her eyes shut to extinguish the urge.

When she opened them, Gren was leaning towards her, concern furrowing his brows. _Are you okay_?

Amaya nodded, returning to her sword, which she realized had been sharpened a little too much. She set it aside. They made their way through the blades quickly, and soon they were polishing them, squinting in the fading light of day. The darkness seemed to thicken the atmosphere. The two soldiers appeared to have moved closer, their thighs brushing against each others as they worked. Amaya felt alert at the contact, but upon looking at Gren, he gave the impression of being completely relaxed.

Irked, Amaya scooted an inch to the left. Although he was trying to be subtle, Gren set down a polished sword and picked up a new one. In that time, he scooted alongside her, nonchalant.

Amaya let the sword fall into her lap. _Don't you have a_—she turned to face him, ready to burst in curiosity, but he was close, dangerously close.

The shadows highlighted the strong lines of his cheekbones, jaw, and chin. His eyes were dark and intense, missing their usual mischievousness. Gren's thick lips were parted in a relaxed manner. He leaned closer. _Have a what_? Gren's gaze flickered down to her mouth. Even in the shadows, Amaya could see he flushed, but he removed his hand from the polishing cloth and set it on the bench near her hip.

This could be so easy. So _painfully_ easy. Two inches forward and she'd give into her lingering curiosity. Not about the secret he was hiding, but about _him_. She wanted to. Gosh, Amaya wanted to. Gren seemed to understand her desire and he bent his head lower, closer.

Amaya signed a word, a single word so small he couldn't see it that broke the spell he cast on her. _Antoinette_. She wouldn't kiss a cheater. She wouldn't be another one of the women he was hiding. She was above that, above _him_.

The sword on her lap clattered to the ground as she stood up abruptly. _Finish polishing these, I'm going to bed_, she said, not meeting his gaze. She didn't want to look at his face, no matter how handsome. Amaya was disappointed in herself for falling into his trap and was disappointed in him. Since when had he become like this?

* * *

The next week, Amaya was off. She was unusually rough during training, which only happened if Katolis was threatened with war or if she was mad at someone or something. She was indeed mad and confused about her friend's antics with the whole leaning-in-while-polishing-swords thing. Typically, ordering her soldiers around would help ease the frustration off her shoulders, but watching Gren give 110 percent into the exercises only made her emotions grow tenfold. Why couldn't she break him?

It didn't help that Gren's white shirt was slick with sweat and his broad chest was heaving from effort. The way he ran his fingers through his bright orange hair that shone in the sunlight made her more determined to work him until he shattered.

_50 more pushups_, Amaya demanded of everyone, and she saw some of the soldiers' mouths open in a groan. _100 because you complained_.

In his strong-mindedness, Gren was the first to drop to the ground and gave 100 pushups without batting an eyelash. Even though the sweat dripped from the tip of his crooked nose, he did the exercise with ease.

She couldn't stand looking at him. _Partner up_, she said, once they were done, _grab your weapons_.

It was nearing midnight when the training finished, the soldiers were exhausted and Amaya was the same although she refused to show it. To encourage her troops, she often joined in on the exercises to better her mind and body and form unity with the guards.

The general rounded the corner of the soldier's barracks when she nearly ran face-first into Gren's chest. A towel was draped over his broad shoulders as he dabbed sweat from his brow with the tip of the cloth. She felt small with him standing this close, in all of his 6 foot 1 glory.

He must've seen the panic alight in her eyes and the defensive stance she took. _Are you okay_? He asked again, just like he had a week ago when they were in a similar situation. His warm hand rested on her shoulder.

Amaya's mind went into overdrive. He was close. His hand was on her shoulder. He was concerned. He was sweaty. He was muscular. He was hot. He smelled like basil. She was stressed and losing sleep over him because of his stupid secret that she could likely figure out if she barged into his room. Without thinking, she said, _let's go to your room_.

Gren stepped back, face burning a bright red that wasn't from the exercises. _What_?

Okay, she worded that incorrectly. _You're hiding something_, she tried, replacing the step he took away. She jabbed her finger into his chest. _You're not telling me something and it's driving me crazy_. Did she have nothing better to do than worry over her best friend's hobbies?

_W-why do you want to go to my room_? He was hedging. Looking awkward and fidgeting under her intense gaze. If she could, she'd just grip his shoulders and shake the answers out of him.

Upon closer inspection, Amaya saw his eyes shifting back and forth nervously. She was making him uncomfortable and she hated that. She had thought she'd do anything to weasel the answer out of him, but this was the last thing she wanted. She stepped back. _I'm sorry. I've been investing too much time in this and it's not necessary. I'll let it go._ She felt ashamed of herself, forcing her curiosity onto her best friend. The only person she could ever, truly trust must've felt violated. _I've been a terrible friend and have doubted you for far too long_. _I'll let you go now_.

Feeling empty, Amaya turned away from him. She started to walk down the hall to her own quarters where she would likely crash onto her mattress and slap the sides of her head until she knocked herself out. What an idiot she'd been!

The fingers clutching her hand made her whip around, alert.

_Why are you being so dramatic_? Gren said. _I mean, I know you've been acting strange for the past while, but you're not even telling me what you want_! Hadn't she? _You've been so cryptic and have been avoiding me and accusing me of things I don't even know about_!

Oh. Maybe he was a little right.

_Okay, I'll admit, I'm not telling you everything, but do I need to? I mean, it's not a big deal in the first place. I think you're blowing this way out of proportion. _He huffed, scratching the back of his neck. _There… is a reason I'm hiding things, but it's not because I don't like you_. Gren's eyes widened at his words and then started flapping his arms. _Wait—I mean—I'm not—_

_Just show me, Gren_. She couldn't help but read a little too much into the 'I like you' thing. It also made her wonder why he was trying to justify himself. She frowned.

Gren sighed. _Sure. Follow me_.

* * *

**A/N: Geez, they're both hopeless**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter :/**

* * *

Maybe he was hiding a brothel in his room. Gren had said it wasn't a big deal, but what could involve multiple women and not be a big deal? Amaya scowled down the seemingly long walk to Gren's quarters. If she was finally meeting Antoinette she wouldn't be happy.

She was twitchy, wanting to get to his door faster, but to also just not know. As much as it'd been driving her insane, she felt as though she'd forced him to show her and it wasn't his own choice. Which is kind of what she intended, but the chase didn't seem as fun now.

His hand was on the doorknob when she stopped him, holding his forearm. She had to know. She had to ask.

_Are you hiding a brothel in your room_?

She caught him off-guard. At first, Amaya celebrated. She'd guessed right! Then, his lips twitched, and soon he was clutching his stomach in laughter that Amaya assumed could've woken up the entire barracks.

There were tears in Gren's eyes when he finally looked at her. _Is that what you've been thinking all this time_? _Do you have that little trust in me_? He was still laughing, but his words stung.

Maybe it was foolish of her to think such things. She flushed angrily. _I do trust you_, she said. _I've just been confused recently._

He sobered. _Confused? With what?_

_Never mind that_. She gestured to the door. Amaya changed her mind when he turned the doorknob. _Wait. Am I meeting Antoinette?_

_How do you know about Antoinette?_

_Answer my question, brothel-man_.

He laughed again which made her smile. _I guess you are in a sense_.

_Get to it then_. Suspense was thick in the air. As if teasing her, Gren turned the knob painfully slow. In a flash, she had grabbed his hand and slammed the door shut as soon as he started to open it. _Wait—_

He was chuckling in disbelief. _Do you want to see or not_? Before she could stop him, he swung open the door.

Amaya knew Antoinette immediately.

She was stunning, just as Amaya had feared. Slender, graceful. She didn't have muscles hardened from training or a scar under her eye. She actually didn't have any muscles. Or any eyes.

_A plant_? Amaya nearly screeched. All that stress and all those sleepless nights over a _plant_? In fact, his entire room was full of plants of many shapes and sizes, but Antoinette was the tallest, prettiest, and in the middle of them all.

_Actually_, Gren said, _she's a _lilium candidum. _Also called a Madonna lily._

She gazed at him in skepticism. It took a while for her to realize her jaw was open in shock. Gren put his finger under her chin and she closed it.

_I've always liked plants. I was bullied when I was younger for liking plants so when I started getting back into gardening I hid it just like I had to when I was a kid. _He shrugged. _It's just second nature for me to keep them hidden, I guess_. He turned to face her. _Now tell me, how did you know about Antoinette_?

Defeated, Amaya dropped her shoulders. _I saw you talking to another soldier about her—your plants_.

_You thought she was my girlfriend_?

Amaya nodded.

_Is that what you were going to ask when we were polishing swords and almost_—his cheeks reddened in an endearing way. So he'd been thinking about it too.

Overall, Amaya was relieved. She had learned something new about her friend, something that wasn't as terrible as she had imagined. Besides, his room smelled lovely. _What are you all growing_?

He smiled. In this atmosphere, with all his plants and the moonlight shining through the window, Gren glowed. He thrived with nature. _Let's do a tour, shall we_? _Just don't step on my plants_.

* * *

No wonder he smelled like basil. Gren grew vegetables, herbs, flowers, and just about anything else. It was amazing he could cram all of this into his small room. They were sitting on his bed, staring out into the mini-forest. _I still don't like Antoinette_, Amaya said.

She could feel Gren laugh beside her. They were sitting with their sides together again, wonderfully and agonizingly close. _Just because she's my favorite_?

_Because I thought she was your girlfriend_. As soon as she said those words, she felt clingy, like a schoolgirl to her crush. Mentally, she slapped her forehead.

_What's wrong with me having a girlfriend_? Gren teased, nudging her with his elbow.

_Nothing, I_—Amaya sighed. _I just don't want to lose you. Your friendship, I guess. I sound clingy and am clingy. I just value our relationship too much_. She stood, cheeks heating at her sudden confession. Whatever it was. _I really need to get to bed_. _Goodnight_. She stood, fumbling around the makeshift path Gren had created around his plants. She didn't look back at him when she exited the room.

Once the door was closed behind her, she pressed her spine against it, clutching her heart. Foolish, foolish, foolish! Like a child she was spilling her feelings without discretion. She stomped down the hallway before Gren could catch her, if he ever would.

As she lay on her bed that night, as tired as she was, she couldn't sleep. She was too embarrassed with herself, too ashamed to let her body relax. She couldn't help but think though, the way Gren had expectantly stared at her while she rambled her stupid feelings. The light pink dusting his cheeks when she stood up. The heat of his body pressed against hers when they sat and even the simple intimacy of being in the same room as him so late at night.

Maybe she wasn't so alone in her feelings.

It was a silly thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I have an exam in literally two days why am I updating this fic instead of studying**

* * *

_What's your name? _Amaya asked a cactus. It had a small bud right on top.

_Tabitha_, Gren replied, sprinkling some fertilizer into her pot and then giving her a few drops of water.

_I was asking the cactus, Gren, let her answer_. Tabitha didn't answer. She was a plant, after all. _Of course her name is Tabitha. Is she one of your girlfriends too?_ Amaya grinned when Gren rolled his eyes. She had come to see that every single one of his plants was given a female name and she teased him endlessly about the multiple women he kept in his room. He'd usually retort with a _you're just jealous, aren't you_? And he was usually right, but she wouldn't admit that.

She'd never like Antoinette. Gren cared for her the most, smiled at her the most. It was stupid, Amaya realized to be so jealous over a plant, but on the other hand she was happy seeing him enjoy himself and doing what he loved. It was so… endearing. Sending a glare to Antoinette, she inched her pot into the full sun.

_What are you doing?!_ Gren asked, shocked. He crouched over his precious Madonna lily. _You know she's only partial sunlight!_

_Guess I forgot_, Amaya shrugged, tenderly stroking a different plant's silky leaves. Her name was Charlotte. Or Charmaine. Amaya couldn't really remember. She loved his plants, though. His room had smelled so lovely, of fresh herbs and the thick aroma of wildlife and humidity from the flowers and varying medicinal plants made Amaya instantly relax no matter what mood she was in. She hadn't told anyone about his secret, but if anyone found out and teased him for it, she was ready to remove them from the castle grounds immediately. Maybe even take them to the other side of the border.

Gren stood behind her as she absent-mindedly continued her leaf-rubbing. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck and his firm hand brush her shoulder as he reached past her to water the plant she was patting. He probably thought nothing of it, but Amaya was hyper-aware of his nearness. When she glanced in her peripheral vision, Gren looked perfectly content, a small smile gracing his features as he finished watering the plant. He caught her staring.

_Is something wrong_? He asked, brow furrowing.

Amaya shook her head, turning away from him, feeling cold. It wasn't cold at all, his room was practically like a greenhouse, sweltering in order to keep the plants healthy. When she really thought about it, how could he sleep at night? She could hardly breathe. _I think training starts in a few minutes_, she said in an attempt to distract herself from thoughts of him being close. Amaya left, carefully stepping over small potted plants, but not before she stuck her tongue out immaturely at Antoinette.

Gren appeared in the courtyard a few moments later, along with all of her other soldiers that she directed. They went through their basic warm-up, and by midday, everyone was dripping with a thick layer of sweat. This was normal, but in the elevating temperatures of summer, it was not appreciated. Gren's room could've been a wine cellar compared to the heat outside. Amaya was struggling too, trying to maintain morale to have her soldiers push through the exercises as well as doing them herself. She made a rule early on in her promotion to never let her soldiers do something without her. She should always try to be bettering herself along with them, no matter the situation. Despite her strength, she was in desperate need of a break.

_Drink water_, she'd remind her troops occasionally. She wouldn't make them work much longer in the heat, as most of the guards had stripped of their tunics and just remained in their trousers. Gren included. Amaya watched him laugh with another solider before taking a sip of a drink from his water-skin. The tops of his shoulders were already starting to burn from the blazing sunlight, but his freckles appeared more prominent. He was so handsome, Amaya realized. The way his toothy smile matched the brightness of the sunshine and how he remained so positive during an exhausting workout. She admired him.

He met her gaze, pausing mid-sentence with his friend. Amaya felt too brave to look elsewhere, and he sent a soft smile her way. She could've melted onto the stones and blamed it on the heat.

Their friendship was so perfect. So untainted and so trustworthy. She relied on him and him on her. It was a perfect balance. Amaya mentally slapped herself. She couldn't afford to ruin what they had. He meant too much to her for her to lose him. She almost groaned. There she was being clingy again.

Gren frowned when she told Katolis's guards to return to their sparring. It wasn't a frown of annoyance or exhaustion like the others', it was out of concern.

* * *

_Are you okay_? Gren asked, placing his large hand on her shoulder. He approached her after the training, before supper.

Dusk was settling over the rolling hills, a cool breeze shaking the trees' leaves. His tunic was slung over his bare neck, and his muscles only seemed to be more prominent with the shadows of the sky and the layer of sweat that was starting to thin.

_You seemed upset during training_, he continued.

Amaya wanted to bash her forehead against the stone of the palace walls. Why did he have to be so handsome _and _attentive? She couldn't tell him that she was confused because of him, it'd create distance and confusion. The general smiled. _I'm fine. Supper_?

Gren grinned in his handsome, boyish way that made her heart flutter. _I'll be there shortly. Let me change first_.

When Gren did arrive, he was wearing one of his nicer tunics. He had claimed that everything else was dirty, but he looked flushed and his hair had been combed. Amaya wasn't the only one who noticed his dressier attire as some of the other soldiers eyed him up and down, occasionally nudging him with their elbows. He waved them off before grabbing his tray of food. He placed it down in front of him, staring at her but not eating.

He leaned forward on his elbows. _What do you say we ditch the mess hall and go somewhere in town_?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here's chapter six in honor of FIVE MORE DAYS until season three releases!**

* * *

Amaya hadn't been to town in a while to do anything fun. The last time she went was to purchase some sword polish and a few fruits for snacking on. Three weeks ago.

She felt like all the street vendors were staring at her. It didn't help that her commander was seeming to enjoy the evening, the summer breeze gently ruffling his hair as they walked down the stone streets. He was smiling softly, making polite conversation with the shop owners and children playing on the street.

Amaya was intrigued. _Do you go to town often_? It was if he knew everyone he talked to. Must've been easy for him, being able to charm anyone across his path.

He grinned easily. _I try to. Just to get to know the kingdom I'm serving better. Also_, he nudged her with his elbow, _I think some of the children on the street think I'm cute_. As if on cue, a few young girls giggled after he waved at them.

Amaya couldn't stop her smile, agreeing with him internally. Who wouldn't think he was adorable? The two turned a corner, and a clean-looking pub appeared out of nowhere.

_My lady_, Gren bowed dramatically as he held the heavy wooden door open for her. He lifted his head to see her reaction and Amaya would be lying if she said she wasn't feeling heat rush to ger cheeks. She gently slapped his shoulder and he laughed. They stepped inside together.

Gren waved to the bartender, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder blades, guiding her towards an empty table. He smiled as she sat across from him.

The bar was dim, but Amaya could see it was occupied with couples, young adults, teenagers trying their first drinks, small families enjoying a dinner out. She drunk in the domesticity of it. Was this what living a normal life was like?

A waitress stood by the table and Gren ordered for the both of them without even looking at a menu or asking what there was to eat. Amaya felt grateful for him, taking initiative. _Do you want anything to drink? Any alcohol?_ He asked, a few moments after the waitress left.

She shook her head and smiled, content. She took note of Gren's posture, leaning forward in his chair, elbows on the table. Occasionally, he tugged the collar of his tunic as if he were hot. His pupils were expanded from the dimness of the room, but his pale blue eyes were as striking as ever.

They made light conversation before the waitress delivered their food. During that time, Amaya couldn't deny her increasing confusion. He seemed dressed up and nervous. This restaurant was obviously one of the nicer ones in the town, judging by the attire of the other customers and of the servers. Her shoulder blades still tingled with his gentle touch despite it being a casual one.

_Gren_, she rested her utensils against the table, staring him dead in the eyes, _are we on a date_?

He sputtered, and she took delight in his floundering, yet couldn't dampen her curiosity. Her commander rubbed the back of his neck. _I guess so_, he laughed, not meeting her eyes. _Do you want it to be_?

Now it was her turn to be flustered. She almost applauded him for directing the question to her so eloquently but made busy work of stabbing a potato and bringing it to her lips. _I do enjoy spending time with you, Gren_. Maybe she was hedging, but after the look of momentary disappointment on Gren's face she immediately regretted saying it. Would it be too awkward to try to explain herself? She didn't, instead, she avoided conversation and returned to her meal.

They finished in silence, but Amaya's heart was still pounding. This was a date? Why wasn't she informed earlier? Her years of being a general hadn't prepared her for this. With all the training and growing in the ranks, she was never taught how to act on a date. Maybe that's why she was handling it so poorly.

_Finished_? Gren smiled, seeming to forget the awkwardness of their earlier conversation. Upon looking down at her plate, Amaya realized she was just smearing the leftover sauce around her otherwise-empty dish. She nodded.

Gren stood and she joined. He paid the server with a 'thank you', then she followed him out the door. The evening had cooled off significantly, but the summer breeze was welcomed after being inside the stuffy pub. It was refreshing and calming, and Amaya had the peaceful mental image of moonlight shining on Gren's plants and the breeze of tonight lifting his window's curtains. She smiled.

In her peripheral vision, she spotted her commander – her _date_ – mirroring her expression even though he couldn't possibly know what she was thinking. He was gazing at her. When she turned to look him in the eyes he glanced elsewhere, lips pursing. Nervous again.

_There's this vendor_, he started, taking the time to run his fingers through his ginger hair. _I get most of my plants from him and I thought maybe_— he wrung his hands together, biting his lower lip. _Maybe we should get you a plant_? He looked excited, and it was such a brilliant idea Amaya couldn't help but clap him on the shoulder.

_I'd love a plant to take care of_. She meant it.

The tension in Gren's shoulders eased. _Let's go then_.

* * *

Amaya's new aloe vera plant felt comfortable in her palms. It was small, new, green, and made her grin like a child. The clay pot was growing warm from being clasped so tightly.

_What are you going to name her_? Gren asked, poking one of the pointy leaves.

_Her? This is a him_. _Just because your plants are women doesn't mean mine will be_. She pondered, analyzing the plant. Only one name came to mind, but she felt embarrassed to say it out loud. _I don't know what to name him_, she lied.

Gren scratched his chin as he thought while he walked down the street with her. The sky was dark, shop lights extinguished, but the night air was energizing in her lungs. He grinned cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows as he suggested, _name him after me_.

It was a joke, obviously, but Amaya matched his expression. _Done_. _Grenjamin it is_. She laughed at the flush climbing his neck.

Abruptly, Gren stopped walking, standing in front of her. _Amaya, I_—he paused, clenching and unclenching his fists. _I had a really good time with you today. It meant a lot to me that you agreed to come along_.

She wished that she could remember this moment, her commander standing in front of her tall and strong, bright eyes uncertain, but words sure. The stars shone above them, and the street was faintly illuminated with flickering lanterns. The breeze picked up Gren's hair, and hers too, but it just made him look all the more ethereal. She tucked her potted plant in the crook of her elbow. _I had fun too_. It was a simple statement, but Gren brightened, and his worries seemed to dissipate.

He fell in step beside her. He stood closer than before, occasionally brushing his fingers against hers. Whenever their knuckles skimmed, Amaya watched him bite his lips in her peripheral vision. He looked happy. Their walk towards the castle wall was nearing, but Amaya didn't want the night to end. She grasped his hand in hers, relishing the comforting warmth and continuing onwards even while he tripped over the stones in shock. She must've been blushing but Gren was far worse, freckles covered by the blood rushing to his cheeks.

The guards standing at the gate couldn't have seen them yet, couldn't have seen the silhouette of their fingers linked together. Amaya slowed, relishing the warmth Gren's palms gave. He understood her, dragging his feet slowly towards the castle wall before dropping her hand to her side when they neared the guards' vision. She felt cold.

Amaya was grateful for the nighttime where her blush was hidden. If the guards could see, she'd just blame it on the bite of the wind. Wordlessly, they opened the gates for them, recognizing them on sight. Amaya could've sworn the guards glanced at each other briefly and smiled as they passed through, but she couldn't be completely sure.

All too soon, they were in front of her door.

Their hands had reconnected as soon as the guards were out of sight. Amaya felt like a schoolgirl, sneaking around with her secret crush. She was giddy, buzzing from his firm grip on her fingers, one that wasn't faltering or uncertain. Gren knew what he wanted and it made her float. They weren't even saying anything to each other, too busy staring into each other's eyes and grinning like children. Suddenly, Gren's head whipped to the side, and he dropped her hands. Amaya spotted an off-duty guard shuffling to the mess hall for a late-night snack.

_Thank you_, Gren said, and although the words were simple, she knew he meant it more sincerely than he could say. She felt the same. _I guess I'll see you tomorrow_?

Amaya nodded. She watched him walk down the hallway, and every time he looked over his shoulder (more than twice), he waved or smiled until he was out of sight.

Once she stepped into her quarters, the general's back leaned against the door and she sunk to the wooden planks on her floor. She clutched her aloe vera plant, heart beating faster than any exercise routine could do.

They lay in their beds that night, neither of them sleeping.

* * *

**A/N: I loved writing this chapter so much sigh**


	7. Chapter 7 - Intermission

**A/N: This brief intermission features Corvus, our favorite tracker and dork. Shorter chapter, will be back to normal (whatever normal is) next chapter.**

* * *

Corvus didn't consider himself a snoop. He just liked to observe. Maybe he had the tendency to hide in rafters and behind large objects so no one actually _knew_ he was watching, but he couldn't help himself. He was curious. When no one had use of him, the tracker wandered the palace grounds, scouring for nuances that others hadn't detected. It wasn't to gossip, just to know.

After doing General Amaya's personal work while looking into her commander's life, he was intrigued. Recently, he kept himself occupied by observing not just Gren, but his employer as well. Corvus knew that the two made an interesting pair, but he hadn't had the time or motivation to look deeper into their relationship until now.

There were times he knew that they thought they were being subtle. For instance, when Gren would peer over both his shoulders before stepping closer to General Amaya, brushing his knuckles across hers. She would grin at him before doing the same – checking over her shoulders and then slipping her fingers into his.

_Holding hands_.

Corvus should've been shocked, but when he considered it, he wasn't. _Maybe_, he thought,_ they're just friends_. _Yeah, friends do this._

General Amaya was in a happier mood overall, even though she pretended not to show it. She smiled more, mostly at Gren, and her exercises for her soldiers were slightly easier. At times.

It wasn't uncommon that Gren and General Amaya sat together during meals, but it was after meals that got Corvus's attention. The two waited until nearly everyone had left the mess hall, and then they meandered to Gren's room, peeking down the halls before they walked inside.

Corvus was a clever guy. He could put two and two together, so it didn't take him long to figure out what they were up to in Gren's bedroom. _Friends do stuff like this… right? _It was at times like these when he made himself scarce, skulking around the palace in search of other things to observe.

Despite wanting to leave the two alone, Corvus couldn't help but feel drawn to Gren and General Amaya. As the weeks went on, he tended to notice how the two spent their time in the palace gardens, helping an aging, but grateful, gardener weed the flower beds. They made digging in the dirt look like an enjoyable pastime. When he thought about it, Corvus realized that a lot of their time spent together was in the gardens or in the dirt. He had never pegged General Amaya as a plant person, but maybe he was wrong.

Corvus's sign language was choppy. It was difficult to read the two's conversations from a distance. They were finger-spelling a lot, names, Corvus assumed. Were they gossiping? No, they looked far too happy for that. Also, he knew that gossiping was not tolerated in General Amaya's books and she was no hypocrite.

He observed.

* * *

Maybe it was coincidental that he happened to be in the village at the same time as the two he happened to be observing. Maybe he planned it. No one really knew except for Corvus himself.

He kept his distance, suspicion settling in his heart as he watched the two laugh, hold hands, point to items that caught their eyes. This was not the behavior of "just friends". Corvus followed them to a quaint flower shop in the village. Was Gren buying General Amaya flowers?

The two emerged a few moments later, clutching bags of… seeds? If Corvus squinted, he could make out that they were camellias. Why were they buying seeds? He was confused, but persisted. That's all they seemed to visit town for, aside from a beverage purchased at a stall on the side of the road, which they _shared_.

He wasn't getting any answers.

After skulking back to the castle, Corvus shielded himself behind the castle's pillars as the two returned to General Amaya's room first, then Gren's. The bags of seeds were gone.

Giving up, Corvus leaned against a stone wall. A soldier passed. He needed clarification. _I'm not a snoop,_ Corvus reminded himself before he asked the passing soldier, "Has anything strange between General Amaya and Gren happened recently?"

"Oh, them?" The soldier replied, not stopping, "yeah, they've been together for weeks already."

* * *

**A/N: Season 3 was wild, huh? Gremaya is kind of dead, but that doesn't mean I'll stop writing it ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: As it be, it's exam season and here I am posting when I should be doing soooo many other things... oh well. Enjoy!**

* * *

This was the third time they'd gone into the village this week, each time for a different reason. The first, to revisit the inviting pub they attended weeks ago. The second, to purchase more plants for Amaya to tend to and grow. And the third, to invest in some seeds – vegetables and flowers, to grow in the palace gardens together.

Amaya's plants had grown handsomely, rivaling Gren's. He pretended to be jealous for her sake when he would walk in her room and see the aloe vera that had increased in height by multiple inches. Not only did it grow up, it grew outwards, overtaking her windowsill and threatening the sunshine on her other plant children. Despite dividing her love amongst her plants, the aloe vera, Grenjamin, was still her favorite.

She had picked up a Madonna lily in the town and named it Not-Antoinette, a tribute to her burning dislike for Gren's flourishing plant that threatened her position with him. She wasn't a jealous person, but she could be when it came to _that_ plant. She loved Not-Antoinette, not as much as Grenjamin, but she could understand why Gren favored his own lily so much.

As she fed her plants sunlight, fertilizer, and water, Gren slipped his hand into hers. In private spaces like this, in Amaya's room, the action felt intensely intimate. The walls seemed to close in, forcing them closer together.

His forehead knocked somewhat unceremoniously against hers after he turned her to face him and she smiled, albeit nervously. He didn't respond with words or a change in his facial expression. He was intense, focused.

Gren's fingers tightened around hers while his other hand slid behind her back. They'd hugged on multiple occasions, but this was no ordinary hug. Amaya could almost count the freckles on his cheekbones, she could smell the earthiness of the plants on his skin.

_Gren_, she wanted to say, but he didn't let her, holding onto her tightly and leaning forward to brush his nose against hers.

"Amaya," he mumbled, eyes focused solely on her mouth, dark eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

As much as she had overanalyzed and shot down his potential feelings because of her own dim-wittedness, she couldn't deny the way he was looking at her, the way he was holding her.

He liked her.

No 'friend' would hold someone this securely, with that much determination in their eyes.

She observed him, soaking up his warmth. He was leaning in, closer, closing his eyes, and she was anticipating the wetness of his warm mouth – wet. Wet. Her foot was wet. Why was her foot wet?

Amaya jolted backwards at the sight of the watering can having dumped its remnants on her leg. While she was in Gren's trance, she must've relaxed her arm so much the water from the can spilled all over the floor. And flooded her Madonna lily.

Drat. You weren't supposed to water the actual flower of the lily in case it weighed down with the weight of the water, but that's exactly what Amaya had done. She crouched to her pot and brushed the water off the petals as best she could.

_I hope she doesn't start to wilt_, she said to Gren, but when she turned to face him, he wasn't looking at her. His hand scratched the back of his neck and his face was the brightest shade of red she'd seen on him. He looked embarrassed and disappointed.

Oh. Right. He did just try to kiss her and she totally shot him down. It's not that she didn't _want_ to kiss him, it's just that she got distracted. Maybe he thought otherwise.

She didn't say anything.

* * *

Gren slipped his hand into hers. Amaya had grown used to the warm comfort. At the beginning, he used to do it without warning and it would startle her, but now it was as if he could read her mind, intertwining their fingers whenever she craved it. Which was often.

She shot him a warm smile, squeezing his fingers before releasing them completely. They were too close to a crowd right now. A part of her didn't understand why she felt she should keep whatever-they-were on the downlow, but maybe it had to do with the fact that he was her subordinate. When Amaya did slip away, she couldn't help but notice Gren's troubled expression, frustration drawing his eyebrows together.

He never asked, but she knew what he meant.

They made their way towards the palace gardens, bags of seeds in hand. After purchasing them in the town, Amaya was eager to contribute to the flourishing of the gardens. It was a little late for planting and transferring, but she hoped she'd be able to see a few of her own blooms outside before the colder season arrived.

She and Gren made quick work stationing themselves in the dirt with the camellia seeds. Their knees grew damp within seconds, but the feeling of the dirt under Amaya's palms calmed her and distracted her from the temporary discomfort. Besides, working alongside her best friend made everything worthwhile.

There was a certain design Gren wanted to follow, a gift of thanks after the two helped the aging gardener on so many occasions. In his gratefulness, he allowed them, or more specifically Gren, to choose the design for the flowerbeds. Gren had told Amaya he had been scheming about it since the start of spring, despite not knowing if he'd ever get the opportunity.

He was almost as excited as getting a promotion.

_We'll plant the camellias in a pattern like this_, he explained, showing her a surprisingly-detailed pattern of a flower bed he sketched on a piece of parchment, _and then the salvia here, and _–

It's not that Amaya didn't want to hear him, she just got lost in his bright smile, his boyish excitement. She'd ask for clarification with the flowers if she needed, allowing herself to stare at him shamelessly.

_-and after that, I was thinking -, _he paused. _Why are you staring at me_?

She smiled. _Why can't I stare at you_?

Gren flushed a handsome red, avoiding her gaze. _Just… plant the flowers, Amaya_.

They worked mostly in silence, absorbing creation and letting the sun soak into their spines. Once they finished, they sat on their haunches, content with the seed placement and transferring of already-blooming flowers.

Amaya patted some soil, evening the top. She turned to Gren. A smudge of dirt crusted onto his cheek, hiding his freckles. She laughed lightly, shuffling over to brush it off.

A crowd had formed by the gardens, a sort of celebration for a new member of the castle staff. A baker of some sort, Amaya thought. She didn't pay much attention.

_Stay still_, she told Gren, reaching towards him. The dirt was fairly crusty, and only after a few tries did Amaya realize that the soil on her hands was only making his smear worse. She chuckled at his puzzled expression, the one that soon turned to shock, then cheekiness as he became aware.

Laughing, he fisted a clump of wet soil, dragging it down her cheek.

This was Gren. _Her _Gren. Care-free and gentle, sensitive to others and so, so charming in every way. Boyish yet mature, handsome and dedicated to his job. Dedicated to her.

Gren must've seen her contemplate, sober, and his dirty hand stilled at the back of her neck. She saw his chest rise and fall with a soft sigh. He leaned in, brushing their noses, gaze focused on her lips – just like before. Amaya wanted nothing more than for him to complete the action. She wouldn't let anything stop him. Not the soil on their faces, not sunset mist settling on their arms, not even—

He drew back. _What if someone sees_?

_Let them see_.

Maybe Amaya rushed forward too fast, but their noses bumped again before she completely eliminated the distance between them.

Her fingers carded through his soft hair, leaning into him, losing herself to the warmth and solidity of his mouth on hers. She pulled away, fearful that she scared him.

His eyes were hazy. _Don't_, he started, dread seeping into Amaya's chest. _Don't pull away… not yet_.

Gren pulled her to him, linking his soil-crusted fingers between hers as the other rested on her jawline, tilting her chin up to meet him. He kissed her, mouth still and light, before exhaling sharply through his nose, and pressing against her. He was so sure of what he wanted, Amaya felt like a schoolgirl, heart pounding in her chest as she abandoned her worries.

The sun was set now, pale moon peeking over the castle walls. The two parted, flushed and breathless, clinging onto each other's shoulders. Finally, Amaya met his eyes, and there was only joy there. She felt the same way.

_You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that_.

**End**

* * *

**A/N: It's been a wild ride. Thank you so much for reading this and enjoying Gremaya. Expect more from me soon (?)**


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